


Struggles of a Knighted Wolf

by imthepunchlord



Category: Cinderella Phenomenon (Visual Novel)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fritz's route rewrite, Fritzgerald Aiden Leverton's Route Spoilers, Frtiz deserved better, Hurt/Comfort, I was unsatisfied, Inner Demons, character exploration, inner turmoil, so I'm doing my own take
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:28:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26306350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imthepunchlord/pseuds/imthepunchlord
Summary: Sir Fritz only has one thing in life that he cares for: the safety of his charge, Princess Lucette Riella Britton, daughter of the late evil queen, and the dreaded heiress feared to follow her mother's footsteps. With the large and lonely uphill battle she'll face, Sir Fritz was determined to be there every step of the way. Only things go haywire when his ward disappears one day and everyone else seems to have forgotten her. As something dark stirs within him, Fritz is on the hunt to find her.
Relationships: Lucette Riella Britton/Fritzgerald Aiden Leverton, Lucette Riella Britton/Varg
Comments: 10
Kudos: 44





	1. Freed with a Leash

**Author's Note:**

> So when I started Cinderella Phenomenon and got to learn about Fritz's set up int he game, his route I was the most excited and intrigued to see. And what I got... it was interesting to see play out, I'll say that. But that was not what I was expecting or hoping for... I'm uncertain to even really count it as Fritz's route when Fritz himself barely appeared in it. That was more Varg's route and even then, it wasn't really his either. Like, he was there, but it wasn't really his story, it was more of an angsty take of Lucette siding with villains and Varg was about 3/4 of that story. 
> 
> It was interesting, but I wasn't satisfied. So I'm going to write my own take of what I would've liked for Fritz's route, and hope the sequel will expand more on him.

The first time he awoke to consciousness, _everything_ overwhelmed him. _Thoughts, feelings, smells, sounds…_ everything and nothing rushed at him. He took his first breath, and felt _full_ . The smell, the air, it all came and filled his senses. Much of what he processed he instinctively knew and how he would know was an answer at the back of his head. But in his current state, he couldn’t process that answer. Of what he could, he wondered if this… was this what it was like to be alive? To have a real existence? Was this an existence? What was he? He… he knew who he was but, it was off, twisted, rearranged, and _changed_. He was Fritz. He knows this, that is his given name, that… was also wrong in a sense. He was and he wasn’t and he couldn’t make any exact sense of this. 

“My, my. I think this is the most twisted up confusion I’ve ever seen from a cursed.”

The sudden voice didn’t give him a start. He knew that voice was there, though in the rush of his… birth, he had forgotten. A calm settled over him, and dangerous yellow eyes slid up to the smug _snake_ looming over him. His senses heightened with his creation, he wrinkled his nose at the smell of the man before him, a foulness that left him in disgust. 

The man was Mythos, giving him a smug, pleased smile, confidence burning in his gaze. He deemed it arrogant for this witch to think he held all the power here. This snake had no idea what he just made… not that he himself exactly knew either. He had an inkling of what he was, though no exact words to name it. 

But he knew he was _dangerous_. 

“Per the laws of casting curses, I have given you the curse of Red Riding Hood, for I am in need of a big bad wolf to do what the goody two shoes hunter would not.” 

His eyes sharpened at that. A wolf. Yes. That's what he was. He was all things dark and twisted and ugly, that had been buried deep, filling and festering despite the easy smile he always gave to those around him, unaware of the animal inside, the anger, the rage, the desire, hunger, anxiety, fear… he was the wolf the hunter chained within him, kept in check. And now he was unchained. He was out. Everything Fritz hated or feared and hungered he kept the axe buried deep within but it was removed and all of it was _out_. 

_He was a wolf_.

He stood, feeling powerful, alive, _free_. 

He was out. 

He could do what he always desired. 

_He was unrestrained_.

Sir Mythros realized it as well, resisting the instinctive urge to step back as wild yellow eyes settled upon him, clear and wild, amused by the unease in his eyes. “Careful,” Mythros warned, stressing the command in his voice. “I brought you forth, I can bury once more and change you up to meet my needs. If you’re going to be too _wild_ …” 

He didn’t move, peering at the snake. 

Taking it as a sign of obedience, Mythros relaxed, clearing his throat. “Very good, _pet_ ,” he smiled at how those eyes burned at him angrily. “I may have brought out the wolf, but you are still a dog to serve. And my needs will be answered. And your father you will humor, for now. But _I_ am the one who truly holds your leash.” 

He spoke for the first time, his voice largely the same, though it did hold an edge to it. “What makes you think this wolf will be leashed?”

“Because I know what the hunter _and wolf_ desires.” 

He stiffened, the sharpness in his eyes rising up to give the snake an angry burn, glaring at him. This time, he growled, “If you dare…”

“Then be a good _pet_ ,” came the sneer. 

He wanted to growl, he wanted to dive forward, pin this snake down and see how well he can take the weight of the animal he brought forth. But he withheld. His father may not think so, but his son was sharper he realized. More calculating and aware than he realized. He can be smart, and oh so patient. If his desire was under threat, he can be smart about this. 

This snake before him was arrogant, thinking this wolf was leashed and he held it. 

A wolf had no master, and any that thought so are bound to be bitten. 

He just had to be patient. 

Sir Mythros’ smile grew, the smugness coming off of him in irritating waves. “Good pet,” he teased, watching the cursed’s lips twitch. He had a feeling he wanted to bare his fangs oh so badly, it just had Mythros’ smug smile grow. “For now, all I’ll need is for you to serve Sir Alcaster.” 

He didn’t show his surprise that he was to serve his father, and there was a small wonder if his father knew that he’d be working with his cursed son. A spiteful part of him told him that he did. He allowed a twisted smile. Well, his father always deemed him too soft. If he was unsatisfied with the kindhearted hunter, perhaps he’d rather the more wild wolf. 

Either way, he can see things becoming very satisfying. For the axe that bound him was gone. He was unrestrained. He can do what he always wanted to do. 

And neither would be none the wiser.

Once he secured the safety of his treasure, that is. 

“Come pet,” Sir Mythros bid, turning away and walking off, foolishly showing his unguarded back. It’d be so easy to simply pounce… he took a single step and followed Sir Mythros quietly. He had an act to play, trust to gain, and once the confidence settled, he sink his teeth into them both. 

But for now, he just had to be patient… 

* * *

Sir Alcaster was a renowned knight. The greatest general to grace the kingdom and serve the royal family. The champion of the people and the king’s right hand. He was the idol people would sing songs of and share the tall tales of his exploits and glory. 

But if Fritz was ever asked, and could say so as honestly as he would like, it was a load of bull. 

He was not a man of love and chivalry. He knew no such things but power and war. And here, following Sir Mythros towards his waiting father who turned his cold eyes upon them, looking over his son and evaluating his recreation, it was enough of a reminder how little he cared. He was not a son but a tool, one that needed to be reforged to better serve him.

Instinctively, he wanted to growl. He can still so clearly remember his father’s approach, his reveal of wanting to overthrow the king and his family and claim the throne for himself, to rule with an iron hand and restore order. That anger welled back up at the sight of him, the fury he felt, the numb truth of things that left him unsurprised. 

His father had been ready to cut him down when Sir Mythros intervened, promising to reforge his son and make him more useful. 

He stopped a few feet from them, not desiring to get closer, but was left with little choice as Alcaster drew near, roughly grabbing his jaw and lifting it up, turning his head about. “Why did his hair change?” Alcaster demanded. 

“I gave him the curse of Red Riding Hood, I brought out his.... inner beast. Made this hunter a _real_ hunter. Everything dark inside of him that he kept locked up has now been brought to the surface. And you don’t do that without leaving some sort of physical mark on him.” 

He moved to get out of Alcaster’s hold on him and received a warning squeeze that was going to bruise his jaw later. An anger was lit inside of him, all the hurt, fear, rage, and hatred he felt towards his father surfacing. It would be _so easy_ to jerk away, open his jaws, and bring his fangs down on this hand, biting down hard enough till he heard those bones _crack_ . All he had to do was let it lose. Let it go. To _just do it_.

And then a smell hit his nose that made him pause, and in the moment that his posture went lax, his father shoved him away, turning to snap at Sir Mythros about how his hair color change would draw in questions and attention they didn’t need. He tuned them out, breathing in deeply, letting the smell fill his head. 

He knew this scent. Became familiar with it within the first few months of him assigned to her. The princess, the evil queen always hoarded away and kept to herself, her precious caged canary. One whose wings the queen clipped down so often and so hard the canary barely had wings to fly, and when she did and her cage open for her to leave, the little bird wouldn’t, looking upon her grown wings and not knowing what to do with them or if she even wanted them. 

He can recall being so wary of her at first, how off putting and dismissive she can be. But he found she wasn't a vulture like her mother, ready to pick everyone part and snap their bones in half. She was caged and stuck in there, having known no other thing and only the vulture’s words to fill her head and shape her world. 

Perhaps it was foolish of him, but he had projected and related to her, both of them having a cruel parent, that wanted to shape them into something they weren’t at their core. He had the luxury of others in his life to keep his father from molding him, she hadn’t. That’s what sparked off his loyalty, and a want to help her realize she had wings and that there was more than just her cage. 

It was going to be a long process, but it was one he had been ready to join for the long haul. A fondness settled with him, a delight to see more and more of the canary starting to come out of her cage, even ever so slowly as she did. 

He took another deep breath.

She was close, drawing near with every second. 

His yellow eyes turned to stare across the hall, seeing her walk by, oblivious to him standing across from her, watching her go by. Something rushed through him, a _want_ to follow, a _want_ to take her hand and to be by her side instead of a simple loyal shadow. A _want_ to have her sharp but trusting eyes set upon him and _only him_. And then he could give into the desire, all that he felt, let it come rushing out, to do what he wanted… 

He almost moved to do so, knowing well that she didn’t even want to attend the breakfast with her father and step family, and he’d be _happy_ to intervene. But then Alcaster turned to him once more and his attention snapped back, not daring to remain unguarded around him. 

“You won’t go by Fritzgerald in this form,” he stated, “as I named you before, you’ll bestow a new name for you.”

He made no comment on him, waiting and watching. “As this form, you will be known as Varg."

Varg… a name meaning wolf, but also outlaw, thief, and the like. For him made to be the big bad wolf, a fitting name. 

"For now, your first command is to do as you’ve been doing. Follow and guard Princess Lucette.” 

He was surprised, but didn’t allow it to show. He did glance between the two, taking in Sir Mythros’ smirk and the deadpan stare Alcaster gave him, as if waiting for his protest. He… Varg wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. They were giving him what he wanted, but at what game? What cost? 

He wouldn’t ask. He had a role to play, and with a slight bow, he backed off, moving to shadow his desire. As soon as he turned the corner, he felt himself recede, the shadow creeping back into the dark depths of Fritz’s mind, allowing the original to exist and be. He felt the echoes of confusion and disorientation to find himself in a hall, not remembering how he got here or why. 

But the echoes of Varg’s… of _their_ wants, _his_ wants, rippled through Fritz and he followed after the trail of the princess, finding himself breathing in and deeply. For some curious reason, his sense of smell seemed stronger, allowing Lucette’s scent to fill his senses. 

It was an easy trail to follow. 

* * *

  
  


A month had passed since the inner depths of Fritz’s darkness was uprooted, and in the grand scheme of this, nothing had truly outright changed. Lucette lingered in her room for as long as she could, comfortable in her cage. Her father pressured her to open up and change and welcome her step family, but it led to tension and clashes. 

Fritz himself remained the ever loyal and patient knight, easily rolling off her sharp words and her frustration with being forcibly dragged from her cage and trying to be forced to fly before she was truly ready to. For him, it was all the same, though it seems his senses were better than before, his hearing as sensitive as his nose. And they were always the first to tell him when she was close, as soon as he caught a whiff of her scent he’d breath in deeply, or when he heard her, his ears would strain to hear more. 

These were curious, but they had no clear answers and he would shrug it off and roll with things. 

For Varg, things were aggravating. While the hunter wandered about in happy oblivion, the wolf stalked and shadowed him, seeing what he saw, feeling echoes of his thoughts and emotions. Due to their connection and the recent freedom, aspects of his inner wants started to creep out and slightly influence Fritz. Though not in the ways Varg wanted. The want to have her filled his head and that had Fritz leaning in her space a little more than before, and breathe her in and feel the warmth of her form coming off of her. He’d get close, but would never touch, no matter how much that desire burned within him. 

And for small amounts at night, Varg was able to slip forth, to take control and prowl and hunt. He was gifted a mask to wear to hide his features, a cloak to help him melt into shadows, and a cane tied to Mythros’ magic, able to use all spells that the witch had. He wasn’t able to prowl about for long, but when he did, Sir Mythros gave him immediate tasks that drew him away from Lucette’s door. 

Spy on these fools. 

Take care of this one knight. 

Prowl around the king’s chamber and seek out documents he cared not to name. 

And as much as it irritated Varg to behave like a dog, he did so for the trapped canary, unaware of the knife that loomed over her. 

Sometimes, he took control while Fritz dozed, the wolf slipping into her room at night to tower over her while she slept. It’d be so easy this way, to reach out and touch her, to whisk her away during the dead of night, find themselves a place to hide them both. All she wants is to be away from the world that doesn’t welcome her, and he wanted her all to himself, he’d be happy to get them away from everything and have it be just them. 

But any time he’d reach, he’d stop, his hand hovering over her hair. He withdrew, wanting to growl at himself, finding that Fritz too could still affect him, restrain him despite his wants. She’d not come willingly right now, and there was a sense of wrongness in taking her without her consent. 

And even he can admit, part he was put off by the thought of her being afraid of him, of hating him. 

Much like everything, he just had to be patient. 

Patience though didn’t reward either side of Fritz. One day coming to work, the early hours of dawn gracing the castle walls, Fritz stopped when he entered, something wrong and tearing through him. The further he walked into the castle, the more frantic he started to feel and become. The deeper he went, the more _off_ things smelled. 

Off in the way that he couldn’t smell her.

Off in the way that it was like she was never here in the castle. 

He reached her door, ripping it open, breathing deep, wild yellow eyes frantically sliding about. 

She was in her room, he didn’t smell her here anymore. It was like she had simply vanished in thin air. 

Something akin to an enraged and scared howl ripped through Fritz. 

Where was she? 

_Where was Lucette?_


	2. Wayward Princess

It was the first time he ever forced control when Fritz wasn’t asleep. 

It had been difficult, his head had ached, his world felt disoriented, and he felt more tired than he would taking control when Fritz fell asleep. Forcing the unconscious would take a toll, but if it's what Varg needed to do, he’d do it more often. And now his yellow eyes flared with a renewed fire, flickering around the room he slipped into it. He breathed in once more, trusting his nose and instincts far better than Fritz who lacked the knowledge of their full capability. 

But he himself didn’t smell anything of her, it was as if she had been wiped away. Magically erased. 

A burning anger filled him, his lips rising and twisting into a snarl. Grasping his cane tightly, he whipped around and dashed through the halls, breathing quickly, desperate and wild to find any trace of her, a whimsy denial set upon him. Anything that would tell him where she was. Anything that could tell him what happened. 

But there was no trace. 

“Y-you?!”

The surprised sound the witch made was a mistake. Faster than the witch could prepare, Varg’s strong hand wrapped around his neck and the witch was shoved hard into the wall. Sir Mythros gasped, hands grabbing Varg’s wrist and squeezing it, trying to shove the cursed off of him. He felt a small flicker of fear at the eyes that bore into his, the eyes of a wolf to tear him apart. 

“Where is she?” came the low growl. 

There was a flicker of confusion in Mythros’ gaze before they narrowed indignation. One of his hands lifted up and he fisted his hand, a glowing sphere glowing above it. Varg crumbled to the floor, feeling weak and in pain. 

“You are to never do that to me again, do you hear me?”

Varg let loose something akin to a low growl, one wild amber eye flickered up before he closed it, the pain becoming unbearable. His body sagged in heavy relief when he was freed of the torturous spell, twitching as Mythros bent down to loom over him. “Now that the dog is reminded of his place… what did you mean, where is she?” 

* * *

It's been a week, and Fritz has been on the edge of going mad with worry. And confusion. And bafflement. No matter where he looked or who he asked, there were no traces of Princess Lucette, and none seem to know of her existence. The king was confused at the mention of having a daughter. Princess Emelaigne frowned in confusion and concern for Fritz's questions. And Prince Rod peered at him impassively, coldly even. Fritz even had a sinking suspicion that Rod knew something. But the prince was offering nothing to him, and would brush him off coldly. 

There was something in Fritz that had him want to grab the prince, to scare him, to force the information out, only the knight quickly fled away and opted out of the room, terrified of having such urges. His frustration and these… urges he often took to the training dummy, hitting far harder than he normally would. He moved more than he would, lashing out, hitting harder and harder till the dummy rocked pickariously, almost looking ready to fall over.

Fritz breathed hard, wore out but unsatisfied. He’d look up to see Rod staring down at him from the second floor, his expression unreadable. Fritz felt a build of… something and quickly moved to be out of sight. He set down the wooden sword, unaware of how the wood was cracked. He leaned against the wall, pressing his head a little too hard against the smooth surface. 

He was a knight in service to Angielle. That service included protecting the royal family, all of them. True born heirs to step heirs. They were his wards. The last thing he wanted to do was scare them. And definitely not shove them against the wall, trying to force answers out of them. No, he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. He— 

They weren’t the ward that mattered. 

Fritz cracked his eyes open, staring at the designs of the wooden plank before him, the slithering brown rings, the lines and random spots on it. He breathed in, held it, and released his breath slowly. He drew up and wandered out. He’ll give the streets another go. 

“Where are you going?” 

He paused, a slight tension filling him at the cold tone. He slowly glanced over his shoulder, seeing his father’s cold eyes set upon him. 

“To patrol,” came his even answer. 

His father narrowed his eyes. “You mean to search for that princess that doesn’t exist?” he said slowly. 

Fritz chose not to answer or reply. His father though was eager to continue. “You’re wasting your time, Fitzgerald. There is no Princess Lucette, there never was.” He started to draw near and instinctively, Fritz took a step back. “You will stop this pointless searching.”

“I do have a patrol to get to,” Fritz hurried out, moving to draw away. When he saw his father’s hand moving to him, it was instinct that had him escaping it, hurrying away before his father could stop him. He didn’t stop till he felt safe, a resigned numbness settling in him, a common feeling to feel with his father. It was… suffocating. But he’s gotten used to being shoved down into cold water and left to float till his father was satisfied enough to leave him and give him the chance to come up. 

“You shouldn’t let your father’s judgement affect you. I definitely don’t.”

Lucette’s crisp flat tone echoed in his ear, and Fritz straightened, the resignation leaving him. While King Genaro wasn’t the same as his own father, their relationship was a strained one, a disconnect born from both ends. Despite this, Lucette did get it, and her crisp words offered him more comfort than she realized when she learned of the relationship between Alcaster and Fritz. 

She reassured him that he didn’t have to be defined by his father. Or care as much of what his father thought of him. Lucette was content to exist as her own, and he can too. It made it easy to slip outside, and resume his search. 

He long stopped asking anyone if they’ve seen her. Questions for a supposed daughter of the previous queen left him with cold and frightened stares, and it wasn’t long till the familiarity of the situation that Lucette dealt with came with him. He received uneasy stares as he passed, and was given a wide berth. 

Of the few times she left the castle, this was why she hated doing so. The unwelcome was overwhelming that would easily set anyone on edge. This was one of the reasons why Lucette rather spent time in her room. The world outside wanted nothing to do with her, and she had no interest in it in return. Which wasn’t going to take her very far as a queen… 

Fritz breathed deeply, a wide variety of scents filling his nose. It was a natural action to do, though he couldn’t say where it came from or how his sense of smell got heightened. He could even pick apart the variety scents that came to him, ignore what wasn’t important and focus on what was. Today though, it was the same. A mixture of people about him, of food, clothes, candles, teas, brews, flowers. The list went on with all that he smelled. 

He headed for his favorite bakery, still breathing deeply, taking note of all around him. He was about to request his favorite croissant when his ears caught a quick patter of feet rushing past him, and he jerked when a certain scent that he’s been searching for tickled his nose. He whipped around, seeing her bouncing auburn hair turn the corner. And behind her were two goons…

A cold anger arose in him, and the world seemed to go dark before he shook himself awake. A momentary fear followed, of that feeling he felt and for Lucette. He tore after them, hand already on the hilt of his sword. Faster than he should be, he easily got ahead of the goons, sword brought out and pointed to them. He felt a flicker of distraction when he heard Lucette whisper, “Fritz?” 

He breathed in, almost relaxing to smell her scent again. Almost. He kept hard yellow eyes on the two goons who paused at the sight of him, and the sword he had pointed at them. 

“Why are you pursuing her?” he demanded, his voice coming out more of a growl than he meant to. 

“Th-there’s a price on her head,” one of the goons revealed. 

“Who?” 

“We don’t know!” one confessed as that sword turned towards him. 

“But we do know we need that money!” the other snapped, charging at Fritz. But untrained and desperate, it was easy. He tossed his sword up and flipped it, catching it in time to slam the end of his hilt into the man’s stomach. 

There was a strangled noise as the man stood there in pure pain, then dropped back with a grunt, clutching his middle. His comrade took a few steps back, then turned and fled. The threats removed, Fritz turned to Lucette, the wave of relief coming off of him was near overwhelming, though replaced with a sense of franticness as he looked her over, making sure she was unhurt. 

She peered back at him, slight surprise to see him, but just as calm as she appears to be. There were so many things he wanted to ask, but not yet. He offered her one small smile before it dropped and he allowed a more stoic expression to settle on his face as he turned to the man still on the ground. “What will you have me do with him?” he asked. 

Her sharp eyes flickered down to stare down at the man. The fool peered back up, wide eyed and scared. In a low, even tone, she declared, “Leave him.” 

He sheathed his sword, turned and offered his arm. Easily she slid her arm around his and he relished the touch of her, the warmth of her at his side. He took another deep breath, fighting hard to not smile like an idiot. After her disappearance and the frantic fear he felt in not finding her, it was a relief that she was here. She was ok. She was back at his side and could be safe again. His other hand came to rest on top of her wrist, unable to resist having another hold on her, afraid she’d disappear again, and he led her away to less crowded streets. 

Once they were alone, she turned to him, mouth opening to ask him something but he beat her to it. 

“Where have you been?” he asked, trying to keep his approach gentle and not the frantic and flustered anger bubbling in him. He would not ever let anger leak out. He was not his father. He didn’t act out on such volatile feelings.

“I had searched everywhere for you. No one seems to remember you! What happened?” 

But all his questions were met with silence as she simply peered up at him in slight surprise. “Princess?” he asked. 

“How do you remember me?” she wondered. 

His response came far too easily. “How could I forget you?” 

Her brow furrowed and she tilted her head in slight concern, a weird if touching expression to see on her. She blinked when she asked, “Are you cursed, Fritz?”

He stared at her, raising a silver brow. “Cursed?” he parroted. 

She nodded, eyeing him expectantly. 

“I’m not,” he told her, wondering what him being cursed has to do with her disappearance. “Why would you think so?” 

“Because that’s part of my curse,” she said. “I have the Cinderella curse, though a reverse, from riches to rags. Part of my curse is that all forget I exist, unless that person be a witch, fairy, or another cursed. Are you a witch or fairy?” 

“I’m human!” 

“Then you must be cursed as well.” 

She said it so simply, like it has to be an obvious fact. He could only stare at her in bafflement, opening his mouth to respond but, he wasn’t sure if he could argue or deny this fact she concluded. He wasn’t sure about being cursed himself, but he can’t deny that it was odd that he alone remembered her and no one else did. 

He pushed those thoughts back for now. “How did you get cursed?” 

“By a witch,” Lucette stated in a huff, though he wasn’t sure if that irritation was at him and his question or at her situation. “She wanted to teach me a lesson, learning to be a ‘good’ person. Not that anyone really has a good answer on how.” Then she turned to him, gazing upon expectantly. “How about you?” she asked, “Do you have a good definition about being a good person?”

“Uuuuuuuh…” Fritz utteredly, reaching up to rub the back of his neck, flustered and uncertain. “I, I don’t know…” 

“What do you mean you don’t know?” 

Well, honestly speaking, Fritz didn’t regard himself to be a good person. Good people didn’t have dark thoughts. Had nightmares that haunted them every night. Have flickers of frightening anger that he quickly shoved down. Or had wrong desires towards their charge who highly outranks them. 

Honestly he feared he was just like his father… he had no answer for he himself wasn’t even certain if he was a good person. 

Lucette sighed, rousing him from his thoughts. He was surprised when she tugged him along, taking charge of this escort. 

“Where are we going?” he asked, noting that this wasn’t the way to the castle. 

“To a safe place for the cursed,” she said. “To where I am staying.” 

He stopped, gently pulling her back and turning her to him. “You should be back at the castle.” 

He could see the wistful want in her eyes but they hardened and she shook her head. “I doubt even you could get me back in there. No one remembers me, Fritz. I can’t return there till I lift this curse.” 

“Then how do you do it?” he asked. 

“By doing three good deeds. That’s why I must figure out how to be a good person.” 

“Or maybe there’s another way?” he offered, finding he really rather have her back at the castle. Back to where he’ll know she’ll be. Back where it's easier to watch and guard her. Where it was familiar to them both. “Maybe Sir Mythros…” he trailed, not finishing that sentence. Where had that name come from? Why did he think the adviser would be able to assist her? 

“I would not like to approach Sir Mythros,” came her icy answer, and he looked up, seeing an edge in her eyes. It made him wonder what he had done to unnerve her, and stopped that thought before that familiar fire of protectiveness could arise. 

“Ok,” he murmured. 

“Just come with me, Fritz,” she ordered, “I am living with a place for the cursed and if you remember me, you are cursed. Perhaps they can help figure out what it is and how to break it.” 

While Fritz wasn’t certain that he was cursed, he found himself smiling as a different sort of warmth filled him, one he’d happily wrap himself up in. He started to tell her, “My Princess, that is very ni—”

“Lucette!” 

His words were cut off and by instinct alone, he pulled her behind him, hand on his hilt, ready to face the newcomer. Only to pause, blinking at the boy that ran up to them, slowing as he peered up at the silver haired knight. 

“Waltz,” Lucette greeted, coming around to stand beside Fritz, staring down at the boy impassively. 

The boy offered her a relieved smile. “I’m glad you’re ok. I’m sorry, that crowd was thicker than I anticipated.” 

“Fritz found me and came to my rescue,” came her even response, the closest thing to a reassurance she will offer. 

Waltz turned and offered him a huge beam. “Thank you!” 

Before Fritz could reply, Lucette reveals, “He is cursed, Waltz.” 

That drew both their eyes to her. She nodded her head to her knight, continuing, “He remembers me. And spent all this time searching for me.” 

Fritz rubbed his neck, offering an awkward smile, only to pause to see the boy peering up at him sharply, his red eyes a little more calculating that they should be. It was… a little unnerving to see eyes like that on a boy, evaluating him. The boy though seemed to wipe it all away as he offered Fritz a warm smile, and pulled out a thick, wide ribbon. He offered it to Fritz, requesting, “Please cover your eyes.” 

When Fritz raised a brow at him, the boy revealed, “Where we live is a sanctuary for the cursed, until you can receive a glamor that will hide you, we have to keep the location a secret.” Fritz felt Lucette’s eyes turn towards him and he accepted the ribbon, wrapping it around his head. As soon as he brought his hands down, he felt Lucette take one, holding it in her own. 

“I will guide you,” she promised. 

Fritz nodded, giving her hand a slight squeeze. Following her will always be easy. 


	3. A Wolf Walks into the Marchen

Blindfolded as he was, his other senses arose to tell him information. The noise of the surrounding town died down and quieted till Fritz could hear the soft song of a forest, and the occasional snap of a twig that one of them walked on. And he could smell all aspects of nature around him, from the trees to the flowers to the animals that no doubt glanced their way. And he was very conscious of the hand that held his, the grip tighter than it's ever been, as if she was afraid that if she let it go, he’d be gone. 

It was a silly sentiment that he shared, and he’d occasionally give her hand a soft squeeze, a silent reassurance that he wasn’t going to disappear and leave her. It had her grip relax a little before it tightened again. It was probably the most anxious he’s ever seen her. 

As they walked further, he could smell food and coffee, and hear the faint, muffled chatter of a crowd. There was a loud ring of a bell as the door opened and it was all cut off by silence as they slipped inside the building. Even with the blindfold on, Fritz felt the eyes on them. 

Lucette quickly pulled him along, and the weight of those gazes dispersed. He was pushed down onto a cushion and small hands undid his blindfold. He blinked as the bright room was revealed to him, showing in a cozy space. He turned and smiled as Lucette sat down beside him, though her eyes were set at an entryway where a woman quickly followed them, her arms crossed and eyes hard. He blinked at her, noting that she seemed… familiar. 

“What is the meaning of this?” the woman was quick to demand. 

It was Waltz who answered. “He is cursed.” When he received a raised brow, Walts revealed, “He remembers Lucette and was looking for her.” 

Before the woman could answer, another entered, one Fritz can immediately define as a fairy. Though, she herself looked tired and sickly. She came near Fritz, looking him over like she was seeking out a wound on him, her gaze gentle and curious. 

“Do you know what your curse is?” she asked him. 

He admitted, “I wasn’t even aware that I was cursed.” 

The woman by entryway scoffed. “Everyone knows they’re cursed.”

“I didn’t,” he replied, a little more bite than he would like in his words. “I, I just know that one day, Lucette was gone, like she was magically erased from existence.” 

The fairy straightened, turning to the woman. “You  _ did _ set up the curse that anyone who wasn’t magical or cursed would forget her. He is cursed.” 

Fritz tensed, quickly turning his gaze to the woman by the door, no, the  _ witch that cursed Lucette _ . She tensely met his sharp gaze, feeling the heat behind them. Fritz’s vision started to go black before Lucette’s voice rang around, and he blinked as his vision cleared, though the heat of rage didn’t quite leave him. 

“What is his curse?” 

The fairy turned to her, looking apologetic. “I couldn’t tell you,” she revealed. “Usually that’s something the cursed know themselves.” 

Which he didn’t. 

The fairy quickly offered, “But we’ll help you figure it out! Surely there is something thing you know or can think of that could give us a clue. Anything that changed for you or is different?”

The initial answered he wanted to give was no, only to pause, considering his heightened senses. Cautiously, he revealed, “I can smell and hear better than before.” There was also a…  _ want _ to shadow Lucette more and… and what to do he wasn’t entirely sure. He was even a bit scared to try and put a name to that answer. Nor did he feel comfortable revealing this to anyone, not to Lucette or these strangers. 

“Well, that at least tells us it's an animal related fairytale,” the witch voiced, and Fritz felt an instinctive rise of hackles. Unlike before, she met his hard gaze coolly, no longer narrowed in suspicion. “Specifically ones that have a great sense of smell and hearing.” 

_ Like a wolf… _

Fritz didn’t voice the thought. For some reason it… unnerved him. 

The fairy cleared her throat, facing him once more and offering him a small but gentle smile. “I am Parfait, the one over there is Delora.” 

Delora. That’s how he recognized her. She had been Lucette’s favorite doll. His eyes narrowed at her, now knowing that she was the reason Lucette had been cursed. Seemingly fed up with Frtiz’s evil eye, she bid, “How about you come and meet the other cursed,  _ Sir Fritzgerald _ .” 

He almost wanted to growl at her, uninterested in meeting the others. But Lucette arose and he followed. He took note that there were more men here and women, and they all regarded him with wary curiosity. Fritz peered back, and was a little surprised to see some faces he recognized. 

Of Annice who Lucette had chased away before. 

Of Jurien and Garlan, both of whom were giving him hard, distrustful stares. 

When he turned his gaze about, he found many were giving him distrustful stares. All remembering him as Lucette’s personal knight. The unwelcome here was clear, and it still applied to Lucette herself. Indignation arose in him, wondering why was she even staying here when she herself wasn’t wanted here? 

Delora loudly introduced, “This is Sir Fritzgerald, the personal knight and guard of Lucette back when she was a princess.” They both twitched at the slight jeer Delora sent them. “Evidently he is cursed as well.” 

“So what’s your curse?” a red haired woman asked him, sharp green eyes peering at him with vague curiosity, and perhaps a hint of… jealousy? Fritz couldn’t be sure. 

He shrugged to the redhead, admitting, “I don’t know.” 

“How could you not know?” came a sharp reply, and when Fritz looked over to a blond with glasses, this man was not bothering to hide the clear envy and distaste in his gaze. “I have amnesia and even I know I'm cursed.” 

“I don’t know,” Fritz said simply, breathing out to keep himself calm. 

“How can you not know?” Garlan asked, brow raised. 

Fritz could only shrug. He honestly couldn’t say. 

“You should send him away.” 

His gaze flickered to Jurien, staring at him hotly. The fairy drew near, hands up in a placating gesture. “Now Jurien—”

“That is  _ Alcaster’s son _ . You let a  _ spy _ in here.” 

“I’m here because Lucette is here,” Fritz replied sharply. He found he wanted to bare his teeth but resisted. 

“Clearly, now you can let your father know where she is—”

“Enough.” 

The command was quiet and cold, and it was instinctive for Jurien to go silent, turning her gaze to Lucette who peered back. “I brought Fritz here because he was also cursed. And this is supposed to be a  _ safe _ place for all cursed, isn’t it?” 

“It is,” Parfait promised. Turning her soft gaze to Fritz, she promised, “You are welcome to stay here, and we’ll help you figure out your curse and how to break it.” 

Fritz offered her no answer, having none to really give. In this moment of time, being cursed had no effect on him, and part of him still wondered if he was. But he couldn’t humor that thought for long as Parfait drew near, revealing that she’d like help around the Marchen as payment for him staying, and he listened with one ear as Delora told Lucette to get started on chores, starting with helping Annice. 

Lucette made a slight aggravated noise but did so, the maid she had fired smiling patiently as the cursed princess came to join her. 

* * *

While Fritz was uncertain if he would stay, it worked out for him to work either way. He did so without complaint, for this was where Lucette was staying, he’ll be staying here for now. And it gave him a chance to get a better grasp and feel of the place. For now, he assisted in moving the heavier supplies to the closet, where he noted a broom with a bow sat. 

“So…” 

Fritz set a box down, looking up to see the redhead standing close, green eyes evaluating him. Fritz found her to be very beautiful, and someone he thinks he’s seen before… before he could consider the thought, the woman continued, “As the princess’ personal knight, you must be a very skilled swordsman.” 

“I like to think that I am,” came Fritz's modest answer. In truth, he’d be the second best swordsman in all of Angielle, and second best weapons master. His father had taught him to use and master  _ everything _ . Alcaster worked hard to shape him into the best and most lethal knight in his Order, with the interest of becoming the Princess’ personal knight and guard, though why he had desired that was lost to Fritz. 

It had given him much trepidation to be assigned to her at first, partly from reputation and family history, and partly because he didn’t trust his father and his reasons. Now she has become incredibly important to him, probably more than his father would like. 

“I like to think of myself as an extremely skilled swordsman,” the woman continued, “shall we spar? I’d like to see what the personal guard of the princess is capable of.” 

There was an edge there that had Fritz pausing. Was it protectiveness? He glanced at her, seeing her green eyes peer back in silent challenge. Dark thoughts slipped into Fritz's mind, wondering if it was simply to secure that Princess Lucette had the best protection or was he being threatened with replacement? 

“We can,” Fritz agreed, pushing those back. Then he paused. “Did you say swordsman?” 

“Karma is actually a man.” 

Waltz came to join them, sending Karma a teasing smile. “He disguises himself as a woman for his curse.” 

“What is your curse?” Fritz asked, but all he got were pursed lips. 

“He never talks about it,” Waltz grumbled. Then pointed a thumb to himself. “I have the Neverland curse. I have to find my shadow, else I’m stuck to look like a kid.”

So that was why he seems older than he is. 

“How about tonight?” Karma offered. “You can even join Jurien and Garlan when I train with them.” 

Fritz offered a strained smile. “I wouldn't be welcomed.” 

“How about after their training?” 

“Won’t you be tired?” 

Karma laughed. “I don’t get tired. I’m just amazing like that.” Beside him, Waltz rolled his eyes. 

“How about another night?” Fritz offered, “I’d rather us both rested so it's a more fair spar.” 

Karma’s smile became more of a jeer. “Confident, aren’t you?” That’s what Fritz wanted to tell him, but kept his mouth shut. Karma continued, “I actually train with them every night. Sometimes both, sometimes just one of them.”

“Every night?” Fritz asked in surprise.

“But of course.”

“Very well,” Fritz said. “We’ll spar after you’re done with them.” 

“Marvelous! I look forward to seeing what you’re capable of, sir knight.” 

* * *

When night fell, Fritz found he was more tired than anticipated. He barely just shut the door when the world went dark and he drifted in oblivion. When yellow eyes opened against, Varg stood in his place, turning his gaze about the room, taking it in and breathing deeply. While the room was untouched, he could still smell the faint scents of everyone here, and with just a little bit, Varg could pick apart each smell and identify who it was. 

Though, how much it would matter would remain to be seen. 

Varg slipped out of the room, ignoring Fritz’s original intent to warm and prepare for the waste of time that was sparring with Karma. What mattered was his objective set far away from his assigned room. 

With quiet strides, he came to stop outside Lucette’s room, listening for her within. It didn’t sound like she was asleep just yet, he may have to come by later when she was. Which would give him a good chance to decide what to do. 

Sir Mythros would rather her brought back to the castle immediately. 

Lucette herself seemed to rather stay here, curiously despite the cold stares she received. 

And Varg himself… he for sure wanted her safe and hidden away, ideally in a location only he would know. Give her that sanctuary away from the world, and he’d get to have her to himself for as long as he’d like. Though, that was a goal he couldn’t have until things were more in his favor, with his weaker counterpart out of the picture. 

And Varg, as the wolf, was still a hunter. Patience was a necessity for all hunters. And patient he can be. The situation was undesirable, but he can wait. And it can work in his favor. Mythros didn’t know he was here, and this place was hidden from him. He and Lucette were well hidden from that snake. 

And if Mythros can still torture him, Varg will soon get that answer if Mythros can even torture him at a distance, or did he need to be close before can choke the wolf into obedience. 

Varg will roll with this, humor this… odd pack. He’ll be under their nose and watch his ward from the shadows. And in time, once certain things were confirmed for him and he had better control, he’ll take her fate into his hands. 

Varg moved to touch the door, the closest he can be right now, but leapt away when a sword hissed at where he was seconds ago. Yellow eyes looked up to meet the enraged green of a man with long red hair wrapped in a ponytail glared at him, raising his sword higher. 

“You’ll stay away from her!” Karma shouted, and Varg heard Lucette move in her room. He could hear everyone rising in the house, moving to find out the source. 

Irritation arose in Varg, the expected plan now ruined. Still, he gave Karma a toothy smile, declaring, “That’s not for you to decide.” 

With a snarl, Karma charged at him and Varg brought up his cane, the two instruments ringing out through the hall as they easily met in an even clash. Karma withdrew his quickly, and came at him again, though each strike and jab Varg met evenly and easily. He felt like he was facing a fox, lovely and quick, dancing around him as he flashed his ready fangs. 

But this fox was facing a wolf. Slower he may be, but those little teeth would do little against him, and his own bite was far more lethal. 

Lucette’s door opened and the princess peered, sucking in a sharp breath as her own amber eyes met his molten gold. Karma, realizing that Varg was staring at her, turned to warn Lucette, leaving himself open. 

_ Foolish little fox _ . 

Seeing his opening, Varg flipped his cane, catching it in midair, and shoved the end of it hard into Karma’s side, sending him to the floor with a grunt. With his way no longer blocked, Varg easily leapt over him, landing right beside Lucette. Wide scared eyes gazed up at him and Varg felt a mix of thrilling delight and distress race through him to see her scared of him. 

He tore away from her, heading for the stairs to find Jurien and Garlan below. Jurien didn’t hesitate to charge and Varg sped down to meet her. He waited till the last second to sidestep her thrust, and jumped down to bypass the stairs, landing on the startled Garlan. He was up in seconds, rushing to the door and dancing around the magic the witch sent after him. The door gave under his weight as he slammed against it and off he fled into the night, the shadows eagerly hiding him away. 

Delora stood at the door, glaring into the darkness but no longer seeing the masked intruder. She turned around to see Garlan getting up with a wince, but otherwise unharmed. She hurried past him up the steps, demanding, “What happened? Who was that?!” 

She came across Lucette helping a wincing Karma up, holding his bruised side. Before either ginger could answer, there was an answering snarl down the hall. 

“Fritz!” 

All turned and looked up to Jurien down the hall, her eyes blazing in rage. “He’s gone!” 

A cold confusion settled on Lucette as she took this in. That frightening mask man was Fritz? 

* * *

Varg didn’t stop until he had reached the town and settled into the darkest alley he could find. He felt safe in the shadows, finally relaxing and allowing a chance to breathe. He quickly grimaced, allowing the growl to ripple through him. 

He had her. 

_ He finally had her _ .

And one small mistake on his part and now they were separated once more. 

He turned and glared back at the woods, slowly relaxing. It was ok though, he now knows where she is. And the oddball pack seemed interested in keeping her safe, he can tolerate them having her for now. Just a little more patience, and he’ll have her to himself soon enough. 

Varg returned to his home, and collapsed in pain the second he entered. 

“Where. Have. You. Been.” 

He glared up to see the snake coming to loom over him, beady eyes glaring down. Varg gritted his teeth, managing out, “Hunting.” 

Mythros dropped the magic and Varg sagged to the floor. “Did you find her?” Mythros demanded. 

“No,” Varg lied. 

There was a hard grab at his jaw, turning his blazing eyes up to Mythros. “You wasted a whole day searching and never found her?” 

Varg glared back, repeating, “No.” 

Mythros dropped him, scoffing. “Your father was right to call you useless.”

Varg bared his teeth, rising up to his feet to glare at Mythros. “ _ I _ am not useless.  _ Fritz _ is.” 

“You were made to be better, but if you can’t,  _ you are weak _ .” 

Varg tensed, and stood his ground as the fist came hard at his face. He looked up through his mask’s eyehole, glaring up at his father as the side of his face gave an aching pulse. Alcaster glared down at him, spiteful and disgusted. “Even cursed and empowered, you still fail me as a son.” 

He went past Varg, shoving him hard into the wall. Mythros gave him a snide snicker, and passed him as well, leaving Varg alone in the dark empty house. A quiet rage settled in him, one he allowed to let spew and fester. Let them think they hold all the power. This wolf still has his teeth, and the first chance he gets, he’ll sink them as hard and deeply into them as he can. 

Until then, he wandered to his room and collapsed on his bed. 

The only thing he will enjoy was that he knew where she was, they didn’t.  _ Fritz didn’t _ . Varg did. And with this small bit of info, he relished the fact that he had it all to himself. 

With this, he drifted off, content as the side of his face ached. 


	4. The Big Bad Wolf

The first thing Fritz was aware when he awoke was the side of his face aching. The second was the alarm he felt when he awoke in  _ his room _ , and not in the little cafe Lucette was now living in with the other cursed. He sat up quickly, ready to rush out and try and find it, only to stop when the pain exploded on his face and he stopped, gingerly clutching it. 

His vision swam as tears welled up in his eyes, and Fritz worked on his breathing while he felt his throat tighten. The familiar smell of his home did little to comfort him, and he got up carefully to grab himself some water to drink. It usually helped him open his throat back up and relax. 

He drank deeply and slowly, letting the cool liquid soothe him, washing down the tension and emotions he felt. He brought it down with a sigh, better though his face still ached. He lightly touched the bruise, wincing.

This was his father's work. He has felt it enough to know it well. His brow furrowed, turning to look around the room, a silent wonder of how he even got here going through him. The last thing he remembered was going to his assigned room and warming up to get ready to face Karma, and then… that’s where his memory cuts off. 

What happened? 

How did he get here? 

When did he come across his father and how does he not remember the encounter? Did the witch send him back home? How would she know where she lives? He knows she saw him while she pretended to be Lucette’s favorite doll, but she didn’t know where he lived. At least, he was certain of that. He hurried out of his room, heading to the streets and taking a deep breath. 

He didn’t smell Lucette, and when he wandered to where he found her yesterday, he found nothing. The trail she left was already gone. Frowning, he started to wander about, trying to find his way back to the Marchen, wandering around the woods. He knows it was in the woods somewhere, it had to be. But no matter where he looked or often he sniffed and listened; he found no trace of it. Almost like it had been hidden from him… 

There was an ache in his chest and the anxiety and nervousness he felt before returned. Once again, he was separated from Lucette, not entirely knowing where she is and having no way to her. 

At least she seemed safe, with people that cared. 

At least he hoped, one afternoon there wasn’t really enough to help him decide that. 

Fritz shook back his unease. She's ok and cared for, after her disappearance, he can take comfort knowing she  _ is  _ ok. But then there was the matter of Fritz himself and him possibly being cursed. Lucette was convinced, the fairy was also convinced. But what was his curse? They did mention the possibility of it being animal related, like his curse could be a wol… 

Fritz found he couldn't finish the thought, too unnerved. He moved on, heading to a bookstore. To the clerk, he requested, "All fairytales that relate to wolves."

He received a raised brow, but she slipped away to fetch them. Almost an hour later, Fritz sat in his home, trying not to think about how his father will notice his absence. He laid out all fairytales the clerk had related to wolves. 

_ Red Riding Hood _

_ Three Little Pigs _

_ Reynard the Fox _

_ Little Boy Who Cried Wolf _

_ The Wolf and the Seven Young Kids _

Fritz grimaced at them all. He was faintly aware of each story, all of them having the wolf as an antagonist that was hungry to devour the helpless. It often ended with the wolf getting killed, and if he  _ was _ the wolf… Fritz's insides twisted a little. The possibility of death didn’t scare him. Pledging himself to Lucette, he was ready to lay down his life in her stead if it came to it. Her life will always be above his. 

He was more concerned of the prospect of the wolf always being a villain in the fables. Did that mean he was a villain? Did… did this mean  _ he endangered  _ Lucette? He looked over the titles, their endings coming to mind. He envisioned the wolf in each, swallowing the helpless hungrily. His mind flickered and flashed, seeing himself as a wolf, maw clamping down on Lucette’s neck— 

His world went dark and after a bit of struggle, Varg sat up, huffing. "Danmable imagination," he muttered, gathering up the books. "Always overthinking." He carried them to the burning fireplace and tossed them in. He had a few seconds to enjoy the burning before Varg stumbled, groaning as shadows started to rise over him. In a small struggle, Fritz by the fireplace, blinking in a daze. He gasped seeing the burning books, "No!" 

He dropped to his knees, hissing as he grabbed the burning books and brought them out, doing what he could to put out those flames. He sat back, grimacing at the damage done. Chunks of the fables have been eaten away, limiting him to the knowledge he may need to help figure out how to break his curse. One he noticed was partly open, and he reached out, wiping away ash to see the image of the large black wolf standing over Red Riding Hood, offering to escort her to her grandmother's, its first step in gaining trust and laying its trap. In his nervous state, Fritz easily saw Lucette in that red hood, gazing up at the wolf with trusting eyes. 

He closed his eyes and sat back, smearing his hand over his face. 

This was all the confirmation he needed. He was to stay away from Lucette by any means possible. 

* * *

"Is it possible to have a partner outside the Marchen?"

"Of course," Parfait answered while Delora narrowed her eyes at Lucette.

"Then I pick Fritz as my partner," Lucette said simply. 

"What?!" 

All three glanced towards the door of the reception room, frowning as they listened to Karma and Waltz scolding Rumpel who grumbled back. With a spark of mischief in her eyes, Delora sent a small spark at the door. Rumpel yelped and there was a rush of footsteps drawing away before they too got a little zap. 

Parfait gently started, "Well, Lucette—"

"That's a terrible idea," Delora cut in. Lucette raised a brow and Delora went off. "We don't know your bodyguard. We don't know what curse he has and what it even really does. All we know is some freaky stranger was outside your door and Fritz is gone." 

"Perhaps if he wasn't attacked," Lucette bit out, "we'd know what's going on."

"Oh! Sorry!" Karma snapped by the door, stepping into view to give Lucette a look. "Next time I'll let the creepy stranger I don't know hang around your room." 

Lucette wanted to snap back, but let out a sigh. "I'm sorry," she murmured, "thank you for looking out for me." 

Karma blinked in slight surprise before he puffed up. "Why of course, darling! What gentleman would I be if I—"

"Ok, we heard enough," Delora decided, this time putting up a dome around them. "That'll put a stop to the interruptions " 

"I agree with Delora," Parfait said gently. "I'm happy you want a partner to assist you, but that being Fritz…"

"It's crazy," Delora stated.

"And we are concerned for you," Parfait added. 

"Fritz is my knight and protector."

"But he's cursed and it makes him creepy Mr Mask who we don't know anything about or what he even wants, except that he was hanging around  _ your _ room."

"Fritz did use to guard my room at night," Lucette revealed. 

Delora pinched the bridge of her nose, irritated. Parfait requested, "We'd like some time to look into him, make sure he  _ is _ safe with this curse. Perhaps there’s someone else you may like to pair up with?"

Lucette eyed them, then relented, “Alright, I understand.” Parfait relaxed and sighed in relief while Delora narrowed her eyes, having little faith that the princess would cave this easily. Her intuition was correct as Lucette told them, “I’ll partner up with Rod.” 

Delora took a deep breath. “I feel like you’re trying to piss me off.” 

“You said a different partner and Rod isn’t Fritz.” 

“He’d be in the same location,” Delora said dryly. 

“Alright,” Parfait murmured before Lucette could reply. Delora whipped towards the fairy, brow raised high. 

“Alright? Are you losing your mind as well as health, Parfait?” 

“I can put a glamour on her,” Parfait offered. “Make it difficult for any nearby witch to notice her. And maybe, we can arrange things for her to live in the palace, a… often unnoticed position.” Delora blinked, a coy smile spreading over her lips that left Lucette wary. 

“What are you thinking?” Lucette demanded. 

“I’m thinking that, yes, we can make this work, if this is what you really want, Lucette? Karma, Waltz, and Rumpel all would be delighted to partner up with you.” 

Lucette considered them before she spoke. Karma and Waltz were mysteries she did want to solve, and a friendly duo that were welcoming of her. Rumpel was… an annoyance. She’s uncertain if she’d want to partner up with him. 

Rod didn’t want to give her the time of day, though it was logical to think that trying to amend things with him would help her improve. And Fritz, he’d be there. Her knight would be at her side again, bringing some sense of normalcy back to her. And he was cursed, which had her concerned for him and a want to help him. Waltz had mentioned friendship to her before and having friends and… well, thinking it over, Lucette could deem Fritz as her first true friend. 

In honor of that friendship, and partly from a genuine want, she’ll do what she can to help him. 

Even if that means fibbing to this witch and fairy a little just so she can try and reunite with Fritz. Besides, with how little Rod wants to do with her, it should be easy to reunite with Fritz. 

Nodding to them, she bid, “Yes, I’ll partner with Rod.” 

Delora’s wicked smile unnerved Lucette, and the princess leaned back into the couch as the witch stood up and came to loom over her. “Allow me to take care of everything,” Delora said, reaching up to snap her fingers. 

* * *

Fritz was officially conscious and aware of him, and it would make it harder to possess him, but it was fine. Varg felt himself getting stronger as the days went on, and the more Fritz buried within himself, the more he fed into the core of what Varg was. It wouldn’t be long till Fritz overwhelmed himself and Varg can bring his mighty jaws down upon the soft fool. If he was too weak to embrace all of himself, Varg will surely win in the end. 

But until then, he could only have this body for long while Fritz slept. The hunter didn’t quite know how it worked yet, so when he retired for the evening after hiding himself away in his home, the wolf arose, ready to seek out his little red riding hood. 

He took care in his prowl to not be followed, very certain that Mythros would be suspicious of him leaving and where he may be going. The last thing Varg wanted was to expose Lucette’s whereabouts to the snake. That was for Varg to know alone. 

He found it was a little harder to try and find the Marchen, efforts were made to hide it, but he had fled from it and fully remembered the paths he took. They could do their best to adjust his trail with magic, but his own curse’s magic gave him means to bypass such efforts. It at most took a little longer to reach, but that was fine. He was in no rush to reach it. 

He dared not approach the cabin in the woods, staring at the dark building, suspecting that many were asleep and retired. A big part of him felt tempted. All would be asleep, no one up and about. And Varg moves quietly, melting in and out of shadows. He could visit Lucette tonight. Could finally, officially see her uninterrupted. 

And have a personal laugh as he easily gets past the set up defenses for him. 

Only when he took his first step towards the Marchen, he paused, taking another deep breath. For some reason, her scent seemed… fainter. It was there around the Marchen, confirming that she was here, but it wasn’t as strong as before… 

A flicker of unease echoed through him, and the wolf tore forward. Quietly, he reminded himself as he started to scale up to the roof, moving towards where her window should be. A slight tap of his cane against it and the magic awoke, shoving the window open. Varg dropped into the room, molten eyes narrowing at the empty bed, the faint scent of her in the air. 

She’s been gone for a while. 

There was a flicker of white, the only warning Varg had as he brought up his cane, catching the blade that came to lock with it. 

Those same damn smug green eyes peered at him, and Karma grinned. “I wondered if you’d come back.” 

Varg allowed a grow, pressing back against Karma. “Where is she?” he asked slowly. 

“She left today.” 

“Where?” he growled. 

“I honestly don’t know,” Karma said, leaping back as the cane swung towards him, the wolf head biting through the air. He brought his sword up and Varg moved a little too slowly to dodge it, grimacing as he got a small nick. 

Fritz was going to notice that tomorrow. 

Varg stiffened when he felt a slight stirring. Perhaps he was actually going to notice much sooner… 

“And you coming in and busting into what should be her room, I definitely will not tell you where she is,” Karma declared. 

Varg pointed his cane back at him, glaring at the cursed. “I have a right to know.” 

“Says who?” Karma shot out. 

“Says I,” Varg declared, hearing people get up, coming towards Lucette’s room. Knowing he can’t take too many, and Fritz was going to struggle for control soon, Varg tore through the window, ignoring Karma’s shout behind him. He jumped from the second floor, gritting his teeth as he rolled over the hard ground. He was back on his feet in seconds, and fled back into the shadows as Jurien and Garlan hurried back out. 

“Damnit all!” Jurien snapped, stamping her feet. 

Parfait peered out behind them from the doorway, the smug Delora coming to join her. “I suppose it was a good call after all. He no longer knows where she is.” 

“And if the glamour works, he won’t know she’s there at all,” Parfait agreed. 

Back at town, Varg didn’t make it back to his room. He just got to the back door before the darkness pulled him back in and Fritz stumbled forward, grabbing the railing to keep himself up. Immediately his hand went to his collar, feeling warmth oozing into his shirt and below his fingers. He pulled it back, seeing a nick over his collar like he had gotten cut by a sword. He narrowed his eyes, then looked around to see that he was outside. 

While having no clear answer to how this all works, Fritz could come to one conclusion to how he got outside and hurt, and apparently fled back into the safety of Alcaster’s home. 

Aggravated, he declared loudly as he made his way back up to the house, “Fine! I guess I’ll never sleep again!” 


	5. A Wolf in the Castle

Delora truly did have a cruel sense of humor. Of all things Lucette expected to be done to get her on the castle grounds and hide her, becoming a maid wasn't what she expected. And becoming Emelaigne's maid… that pushed the boundary of her patience. Lucette could gawk at the fact of serving her step sister, someone who wasted her time and very much beneath her in her birth and origin. 

To be here and serving her had to be a twisted up joke. 

But, it was what it was, and Lucette at least got to enjoy being back in the castle. Even if it didn’t have the same feel as before, it wasn’t… terrible. She wasn’t on the streets or in rags, she didn’t have to deal with Rumpel’s flirtations or the annoying vagueness of Karma beating around the bush. Or the odd and curiosities Waltz would give her, like he knew something she didn’t but would never answer or tell her. And there was no more Delora to deal with either. 

Lucette found she could breath a little easier, at least now that she was of her own space, or close to it. 

But things weren’t perfect. There were factors that pushed her patience. 

There was Emelaigne not behaving as a princess should and be all clueless on what to do with herself and the proper etiquette. And she’s been persistently trying to befriend Lucette despite the fact that, as a maid, Lucette should be of too lowly rank to warrant such friendship. 

The rest of the staff gave her evil eyes, uncaring for her personality and thinking she was unworthy to serve the “cherished” princess. 

She got to see her father, see him smile and cherish children that weren’t his own, give them more love and affection than he had ever given her. How  _ happier _ he was with them than her. How they had been quick to receive his touch and hugs while she never holds any memory of him sharing his own physical affection. 

She wants to spout and insist that she didn’t care or love him; but seeing these things that she herself never received and had no answer as to why he kept such a distance from her, they hurt. Delora would’ve insisted that it was all the fault of Lucette herself for not building that bridge to him, but Lucette had to wonder if that was truly true. Most of the time she’s been with him, she’s been a child that stayed in her room as her mother had desired her to. And never did he come for her.

Lucette took a shaky breath, her gaze flickering to Rod when he glanced her way. He narrowed them into a glare, then went back to his food. 

Rod was another displeasure here. 

It was funny to see his horror and alarm at her being here, among the maids, and serving his sister. She even felt smug that when he dragged her back to the Marchen and demanded Lucette to be removed, only for Delora to shoot him down while Parfait gently reprimand him, for he as a cursed had a duty to assist another cursed. Even if he himself didn’t wish to end his curse, Lucette did. 

But any help he should be given was nonexistent. 

Instead she was avoided and received cold stares from him, full of suspicion and anger at the evident galls she had to be here. Despite largely leaving her alone, their way back, he didn’t resist biting out one more spat before they returned to the castle. 

_ "Everyone was happier with you gone." _

“Lucette?” 

The cursed princess blinked, looking up to see Emelaigne looking over her with concern. They were in the carriage, on their way to see her friend Viorica for the third time in the last two weeks. Lucette can’t say how often Emelaigne left to see her friend, but being her maid and forced to follow and serve her, Lucette finds they went often. Lucette was getting tired and weary of how often they were leaving and moving about. 

Was it truly so much to ask that they just… stay at the castle? 

Lucette has had barely any time to herself. 

“Are you ok?” Emelaigne asked, tilting her head in concern. 

Lucette released a quiet sigh, ignoring the sharp eyes of Rod on her. "I am fine," she said. 

"You seem frustrated," Emelaigne persisted. 

For a moment, Lucette considered letting her frustrations pour out. That Emelaigne herself was a waste of her time and an embarrassment by a princess' standards. That Lucette was working a position far beneath her. That Rod took more initiative in this "partnership" than Lucette expected, after the first week contently avoiding him, he was now at every corner, watching her. Making her true intentions hard as she's certain he's going to tattle on her when she talked to Fritz.

Speaking of which, there was Fritz himself! Her loyal knight has up and disappeared, she hasn't seen hide or hair of him and what concerned her was no one talking about him. He hadn't been forgotten like her, but a lowly ranked knight hadn't concerned anyone with him hardly around. 

Emelaigne was still eyeing her, waiting for Lucette’s answer. Lucette decided to share her biggest concern. Rod could report this, but she didn’t think it'd be major enough to be brought back at the Marchen for. 

"There's a friend I've been hoping to see here, but haven't seen him yet."

Rod narrowed his eyes while Emelaigne perked with interest. "Who?" she asked, leaning forward. 

"Sir Fitzgerald." 

Emelaigne’s eyes widened in surprise. "You know Sir Fritz?"

Lucette nodded. "For three years now." He came into her life a year after her mother's death, securing her safety. It had been a reassurance that her father did care, though the relief didn't last long. "I was hoping to see him at the castle but I haven’t seen him yet." Which did make her worry for him…

Emelaigne leaned back, offering Lucette a sad smile. "A while ago he was asking around for a 'Lucette', who knew it was you." 

Rod did, Lucette thought, sparing the blond a dark glance. Ignoring the glaring match between the two, Emelaigne clapped her hands, resolute. "When we get back, I'll request him! You can finally see him then!" 

Lucette blinked, turning to Emelaigne in surprise. "Truly?" 

"Of course! He'd be so happy to see you here! 

Lucette hoped so, and that he'd be himself… 

* * *

  
  


Alcaster knew his son. He was his mother's son, quiet hearted, meek, a horned sheep. Capable of sending a hit back but lacking the true ferocity that Alcaster sought for. He was a disappointment in what he could've been. Alcaster had even hoped that the death of his would harden the boy, but it did little. He smiled more and was an even bigger sheep than before. 

When Alcaster returned home, he narrowed his eyes, unimpressed to see the chain going through the house, long enough to go all over the house. He followed it to his son's room, finding a stumbling Fritz pacing about. 

"What are you doing?" Alcaster growled, watching his son jump, turning to him with wide eyes, then they quickly closed, rubbing his face. 

"I'm not sleeping," he mumbled.

"Why?"

"Because I'm cursed and dangerous and if I can keep myself conscious she'll be safe—" Alcaster's fist struck Fritz's jaw hard, sending the boy to the ground.

"I didn't have you cursed to resist it." Shadows wrapped around his son and slithered away. Varg was starting to get up before he was hit back down. "And I didn't make you to make your existence obvious to him."

Varg got up, responding quietly, "Your son is sharper than you realize."

"Or you're an idiot. A whole month has gone by and ge was none the wiser. And now? He's chaining himself in this house to keep  _ you _ in. Why didn't you break free?"

"I tried but he took control and I dropped my cane, which he sent out of my grasp." Alcaster grunted, unimpressed as he took out his sword and cut through the chain. Varg immediately headed for his cane, using it to get the clasp off. 

Alcaster followed, voiceless, "Mythros tells me you'd one day be able to take full control of the body."

"The more I take over the stronger I get. It's a mental exercise. Though I'll have full control for a while. Fritz had mentality drained himself trying to stay awake." He glanced at Alcaster, wandering with a slight bite in his words, "What brought you by, dear father?" 

"The princess requested Fritz's presence, and I realized it has been a while since I saw either of you." Alcaster narrowed his eyes at his cursed son. "Why is the princess requesting you?"

Varg cracked a grin. "Maybe she's confessing to your son. She fancies the weakling, not that those feelings are returned." 

Alcaster hummed. "Perhaps that can be of use."

"I'm not interested in humoring a princess," Varg said.

Alcaster sent him a glare. "A very Fritz thing to say." 

Varh twitched, offering no more to say. 

"I'll mull it over. She could be a good key to getting to the king." Alcaster drew near, "Until then, take care of this witch." A sheet of paper was shoved into Varg’s chest. Varg grasped it in surprise. 

"Why?"

"You weren't made to ask questions," Alcaster snapped. "See to the deed. I'd like to thin out the snakes in our walls." 

Varg bowed his head and prowled out to begin his hunt.

* * *

  
  


It wasn’t until she was in her second week that she saw Fritz again, though he wasn’t the Fritz she was anticipating to see. It was the dead of night, and much of the castle was asleep, outside the few guards patrolling the halls. 

Lucette wandered quietly through them, heading back to her old room. The first week she avoided it, knowing well that it would be changed and no longer her room. Why would it stay and be untouched when she’s been magically erased from existence?

She was surprised though when she came to her door and slipped in to find that it was unchanged. Her dolls stood upon the stands, smiling at her as if silently welcoming her back. Her bed was made and awaiting her. And her room was even dusted and pristine. Cared for. Lucette could gape at her room, slipping in, running her fingers along the surface of her dolls' shelf in wonder. She did pause though to see a doll she didn’t recognize here, giving her a soft shy smile. It was one far beneath the make of her other dolls, and out of place. She gingerly picked it up, frowning at it. 

“If you think that one’s another witch, I can reassure you that it's not.” 

Lucette jumped, then looked over to see  _ Delora _ grinning at her, disguised as a doll. “Why are you—”

“Overseeing things,” Delora answered simply. “Making sure that yes, you are staying by Rod as you picked him as a partner, and to keep a look out for Fritz. And learn what I can.” 

Lucette gave the witch a dark look, then faltered. She asked, “Have you seen him?” 

“Surprisingly no, though the maids that come in here to clean have talked about him. Apparently he’s been locking himself up in his home, no one’s seen in a while.” 

Lucette blinked in surprise at the joint news. One at the room being confirmed cared for, and that Fritz had locked himself away. The second that followed filled her with concern. Why would he? Was it because of his curse? Whatever it may be? 

“My fears are confirmed.” 

Lucette paused, turning to the witch 

“There is a witch here. They’re hiding their presence well, but are a tad too cocky. I felt the flare of magic here and there, nothing good I can tell you.”

Lucette raised a brow. “How?” 

“When in use, magic always gives off the intent behind it. And this witch, the small bits of magic they’re using that I picked up on, it gave off… something malicious. And pleasure. When something is malicious and pleasing to them, usually that’s not a very good sign.” 

Lucette can agree. That doesn’t sound good. “Do you have any idea who it is?” 

“I don’t,” Delora sighed. “But—”

She cut herself off as the door handle turned, and Lucette stepped away from Delora, tensing. Was she seen coming in here? Who else would even come in here? 

She sucked in a nervous breath when a familiar  _ masked _ individual slipped in, haunting molten eyes locking on her immediately. First they were narrowed, a dangerous edge in his gaze, then changed to confusion as he lingered by the door. Lucette could hear him breathing in deeply as he gazed at her. 

There was a flicker of recognition in his gaze and the man immediately seemed to relax, his gaze even seemed pleased and… relieved? 

“Of all places to find you, you being under my nose was the last thing I expected,” the masked individual, no,  _ Fritz _ said. “It’s impressive, though cocky.” 

Lucette resisted taking a step back as Fritz stepped further into the room, closing the door behind him, looking far too giddy to be in here with her. She could  _ feel _ the nervousness of Delora behind her, and wondered if the witch was going to reveal herself and intervene. What would happen if she did?

“In spite of the arrogance, I’ll give credit,” Fritz continued, “your glamor was strong. But my nose is stronger. I know your scent all too well, magic will never hide you from me.” 

“Fritz,” Lucette started, only for Fritz himself to cut her off. 

“Ah, right. This  _ is _ our first official meeting. And ideally will be uninterrupted.” 

Lucette narrowed her eyes, earning a teasing smirk that showed her his teeth. Lucette wondered if Fritz’s canines have always been so pointed. He bowed to her, dark hair falling forward. “Allow me to introduce myself, properly. I am Varg.” 

“Varg?” she repeated. 

He arose, delight shining in his eyes. “Where is Fritz?” Lucette demanded, taking a bold step up to the cursed before her, ignoring how his molten eyes seemed to brighten. 

“Asleep,” Varg answered simply. “The curse is set up that when he goes unconscious, I arise.” 

“So he is asleep right now,” she murmured. 

“And unaware of what goes on while I’m in control.”

“So he doesn’t know I’m here.” 

“Not yet,” Varg confirmed, stepping even closer. “And it is delightful to think that only I know of you being here.” 

“Where has he been?” Lucette demanded, crossing her arms and glaring up at her cursed knight, refusing to be nervous around him. 

Varg chuckled, moving to walk around her, pausing around her dolls to eye Delora. The doll stayed still, giving no indication that she’s alive. Varg turned to her, answering, “He’s foolishly kept him chained and tried to keep himself from sleeping. Though all that does is mentally weaken him, allowing  _ me _ easy control.” With that scoff, he turned away to cockily stare out the window, though his hair parted around his forehead, and she blinked to see a dark bruise along his hairline.

She moved on instinct, reaching up, only to jolt when he quickly moved away from her, as if her touching him would burn him. Wild eyes peered at her and she coolly peered back. Gone was the air of certainty, now he seemed…. almost flustered. 

“How did you get that bruise?” she asked. 

“It's none of your business,” he growled back. 

She narrowed her eyes at him, and he turned away, unable to meet her gaze. “Alright. I want you to return to bed, and leave Fritz a note that I command him to sleep.” 

Varg frowned at her. “He is already sleeping.”

“I want him to sleep without fear,” Lucette stressed. “And to be in a better state of mind when we meet.” 

“I’m the only one you need to meet,” Varg argued. 

“Where does your loyalty lie, Varg?” 

“To you,” came the immediate answer. 

“Then you’ll do as I ask.”

He narrowed his eyes at her, but didn’t protest further. She moved to walk past him and return to her room, though before her hand touched the knob, Varg murmured to her, “It is good to officially meet you.”

“And it is good to know where your loyalty lies. I will expect to see Fritz soon.” She didn’t wait for Varg to reply or huff back before she left the room. She was just about to turn the corner when she saw the shadow following her, his molten eyes glowing against the black of his attire and where he lurked. He followed her all the way back to the servants quarters, and prowled away once she was back inside. Once alone, Lucette leaned against the door, releasing a breath. 

She took a mental note to see Delora later, they'll have to talk about Fritz's curse now that the witch heard his set up. Hopefully it'll be enough to clue Delora about his fairytale curse. 


End file.
